


Of songs of angels and wordless demons

by Grantair__e



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Historical, Chankgyun is fucking done, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Polyamory, Punk, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, maybe?? - Freeform, this is 80s and punk shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grantair__e/pseuds/Grantair__e
Summary: When self-destructive and lost Changkyun meets laid back and careless Hoseok, they are at a party. They don't make out nor do anything that is supposed to happen when your veins are filled with more alcohol than blood and the high makes you laugh at anything you see, even if it's not funny. Instead, they quote Allen Ginsberg and share the last drag of a poor rolled blunt, leaving both of them with a feeling of emptiness when they take different paths.





	1. Of booze and burning throats

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first fic in english im sorry if there are typos or things that sound weird im trying my best i swear fldkmldf this is for helping me with my own thoughs so maybe its kinda weird
> 
> I hope you all like it and idk enjoy it!!!!If you want some specific relationship just say it im open for suggestions

Hours. Millions and millions of hours. Not even making a single move, trying to be liked by everyone, buying things we won't ever need or even use. Millions of hours studying things we don't remember next month, next week- useless things. We won't be able to remember what the fuck we were doing last day, and there isn’t a single thing of what we study that will help us in the future. Instead of doing something -instead of thinking, we have come to a point where we spend all day trying to learn dead languages or stupid equations that not even the people who made them are sure what the fuck are they for. They say it helps you to develop a critical thinking.  
Well, yeah, if critical thinking means to obey everyone who has power, even if they don't deserve it. Stupid politicians, airhead teachers and a whole pack of dead-ass zombie’s that love to eat their superior asses just for a pat in the back. And so while the next child who will change the world has been exploited by a pack of thirsty bald man in their fifties, we continue to study, to spend the money of our parents doing senseless things. We try to stay awake, to move; because, as long as we move and we have the illusion of not being still. But in reality, we are just moving backwards. We are convinced of jumping to the sky-

And we don't notice that there is a ceiling in the middle.

"Three, two, one!"

The place was filled with screams and the floor's vibration, which was caused by all the people who were jumping and kicking themselves thanks to the ecstasy of the moment. While the loud music tried to fight back the voices, the smell of alcohol surrounded everyone, and the smoke of cigarettes - and a lot more things that could not be considered as legal as tobacco - filled the air. It was impossible to move against the mass of people, but Changkyun still tried to finishing jumping and get back his normal heart beat. However, Hyungwon -who was at his side, glass no longer filled with black liquor-keep following the crowd and screaming, too drunk to realize his best friend had stopped a few moments ago. Huyngwon and Changkyun weren't the usual kind of people that you would see at a party but, oh boy, they really knew how to do it.

In his state of dizziness, Changkyun tried to find the bathroom. He really need to smoke, but would never get through all the people. And Huyngwon wouldn't go out neither, not now he was crashing his lips with a blond guy, just as if it was the last thing they would ever do. Changkyun didn't find it weird at all- Hyungwon used to be as horny as a good kisser. They were used to make out in parties, and were totally fine with it. Heck, they fucking loved it.

When he finally reached the door of the bathroom, the music started fading away. He could think a bit clearer now, after the alcohol slowly stopped having effect on him and music wasn't as loud as before. There were some people there, too. A guy was having the best time of his life, as he could hear, in one of the little cabinets near him. And Ravi -a good friend of the squad- was also there. They talked for a bit, both of them maybe too drunk to have a normal conversation. But none of them cared, and Changkyun loved that.  
He hated his life. He, really, hated his life. He wasn't one of those fucking neurotypicals that had their life together and were having a good time. No, he was a stupid depressed teenager -God, he had just become 19 a few months ago- that had come to a point in his life where nothing really mattered. Fucking nihilism, man. If he wasn't going to have a good time as the rest, having children and a good job and life until he died in his 80s, he rather spend it partying every weekend until his body or his mind decided to finish the clown show he had called his 'time in this fucking Hell'.

Fucking nihilism, man.

Ravi had disappeared a few moments ago, getting back to the party. However, he started to make a cigarette -he hated the industrial ones, to be honest- and looked around the place. Blue lights surrounded the atmosphere, and walls were full of paintings. The floor was kind of sticky, after all the alcohol that must have been thrown during the night. Even if it sounded weird, Changkyun loved it. He took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke coming out of his lips in an undefined figure. However, that peace didn't last for too long.  
"Hey, pass me the lighter." A soft voice said. Changkyun turned around, looking a bit surprised. However, it wasn't a new presence what surprised him, but the stranger itself. If he had to clarify, it was how fucking hot the guy was.

The man was taller and a bit older than Changkyun, dark brown eyes that and white hair with blue touches that complemented his pale skin. Soft pink lips complemented his look, giving him some kind of sweet attitude that went totally off when he looked at his pierced ears and leather jacket. While the sudden contrast seemed to be off at first, the whole picture was different; the man gave a bad-ass attitude that was impossible to not stare at him.

"You there,puppy?" The man talked again, looking it angry, but just like he was enjoying the time Changkyun took for admiring him. He was serving looks, that was obvious.

"Uh, yeah." Changkyun left his cigarette between his lips, giving him the lighter. It was black, and had a little skull draw printed in the logo. Changkyun really like that lighter- Helped him with that emo edgy vibe he liked to have, which the man seemed to detect the moment he saw Changkyun.  
When the stranger used the lighter, a different smell came from the stick. It was weird- Changkyun couldn't identify it as tobacco, but wasn’t sure about what it was. "Wanna some?" The man offered him the cigarette, and Changkyun didn't think twice and accepted it. When he took a long drag, his lungs filling up with smoke and his muscles relaxing in seconds. No, it wasn't tobacco.

"It's the best weed you'll find here, trust me. I'm not the dealer, don't think that I'm here just for making stupid spam." The stranger laughed in a soft tone, while taking the rolled blunt and starting smoking. "Did you come here alone, puppy?"

Changkyun was shocked by the strong high only one drag gave, so he didn't mind the nick the stranger was using for him. Instead, he said a soft "no", and the proceeded to take another drag. "My friend is outside; god knows the fuck he's doing there. I'm usually the one that records him doing stupid shit, so he'll be mad when he won't be able to remember what happened."

"I have a friend who's like that-" He stopped talking in order to take a long drag of the cigarette and then, offer it to Changkyun. "But, ya' know, fuck him. Enjoy the narcotic tobacco of Capitalism."

His words fell flat in the atmosphere, too poetic to be something of his own, too cryptic to be a thought that had just appeared on his mind. Changkyun didn't say anything for a few seconds, which made tenser the moment.

"I'm not in my right mind to think about that." His tone of voice was low, slightly confused.

"It's fucking Allen Ginsberg. Be more educated, kiddo. “Even if his words were a bit rough, there was something about the man that rest the rudeness of what he said, and Changkyun could only laugh at him. Probably it was thanks to the high, but he wasn't going to analyze the situation, if he had to be honest. 

"I just think you tried to be poetic and that shit, but didn't work. Maybe you should try next time" Changkyun kept laughing in a soft manner, moving his head from side to side with delicate movements. For a second, there was a surprisingly comfortable silence, which made Changkyun raise his eyebrows. "Sorry if I was rude, though-"

However, the other man just placed his hand in Changkyun's shoulder, a soft pat in his back afterwards. "Woah, you’re polite after all. You don't have to apologize, I guess you're not wrong, puppy. But maybe I gave you something to think about for the next hours while your friend is too drunk to go home alone, don't you think?"

"Maybe." A soft but not warm smile appeared in Changkyun's. The sudden closeness didn’t make him feel awkward, but he wasn't expecting it. "Allen Ginsberg, you said? Never heard of him. But looks like he is a bit edgy." his words made the man laugh again, shruging his shoulders.

"Yeah. He was a bit edgy, after all. If you're Friends of Jack Kerouac, I guess you have to be fucking edgy- just like you. Still not over The Velvet Underground?"

"Hey, that was below the belt." Changkyun protested feeling exposed. "Their music is really good."

"You're not wrong, but music won't always save you. " The stranger's words were filled with bitternes and a strange sensation of a longing feeling- "I have always though all of this is an illusion, so there is nothing to save. We might have died the day we ended high school. "

"That's when we are supposed to really grow?"

"Yeah. The moment whe're supposed to 'really grow', we're fucked up. We die. Spiritually, I mean. So then we start to kill our own boides, to match that feeling. It should be sad, but, man- I fucking love alcohol and that shit."

Changkyun laughed again. All those words seemed to be so senseless, empty of any kind of meaning- and at the same time, they were attached with a clear understanding of the world. The world that seemed to hate Changkyun- And, because of this, Changkyun hated in return. Chaangkyun had never been truly happy, but he didn't care. Booze and cigarettes made their way through Changkyun's body and, for a few hours, took the place of everything that his life lacked off. For a few hours, he didn't care about fucking daddy issues, about money or if the Earth would spin the same way at it used to do before he died. So he didn't care. 

The music had changed a long time ago, soft voices echoing in the bathrooms walls.

Changkyun was alone.

The solitude crept up the cold icy blue walls and its own reflection took a twisted form, which he didn't feel like his own. The stranger was gone as well as the dizziness or happiness alcohol made him feel.

But Changkyun didn't want to think, nor to feel. It was not the right moment- he thought. 

The door opened, music becoming louder, and Changkyun stepped out the bathroom with a dry feeling in his tongue.


	2. Of black coffee and hungovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe, just maybe, Allen Ginsgberg is a little sutck in his head now.

Whenever he went to a party, he would wake up in Hyungwon's couch. At this point, he was familiar with the feeling of confusion that the first seconds in a supposed unfamiliar space.

Hyungwon lived in a small flat with light walls and loud neighbours. Around that small space, there were at least fifty families with their two children and problematic life. Almost everyone were miners and housewifes, the reason the flats were so cheap- but also crappy. That was why Hyungwon could pay his rent even if his job was shitty and alcohol was expensive. 

Changkyun sat at the edge of the sofa he had slept on that night. He looked around the small apartement; Walls were decorated with records and posters in order to hide the cracks on them. There was a small TV in the table, which was full of packets of cigarettes and an asthray, making an static sound. The radio was playing a song with a soft tune in the kitchen, which Changkyun had his back turned on to. Was Hyungwon the one who turned the radio on? No, that was imposible; Hyungwon woul not even wake up until late evening, not even if there was a fire in his own house (And Changkyun knew it, they were in a situation like that before). After a few minutes of hestiation, Changkyun decided to get up and check the kitchen.

In the middle of the kitchen there was a tall and skinny guy; His blond hair still wet from what Changkyun supposed was a shower. If Changkyun had tried to remember something about the last night, he could have recalled he was the one who made out with Hyungwon, but he came to that conclusion when the stranger seemed to be aware of his presence. The guy smiled so brightly that it nearly confused Changkyun, whose hangover was getting worse as time passed.

"Hi!" The guy approached Changkyun, shaking his hand before he could react. "Good morning, I was making coffee. I guess you might want some, you practicaly passed out after gettting here." He kept smiling, even if his eyes showed a bit of worry for Changkyun. "You okay? Oh- oh, sorry,was I too fast? You are hangover, aren't you?" 

Changkyun looked at him in silence, without changing his poker expression. It was too much to process in just a few seconds. "I need beer." He said without really changing his facial expression. However, when he noticed the Little pout the other guy made, he changed his mind. "Okay, I'll get some coffee. Sounds right..."

"You'll love it!" He turned around and used the cofee pot, pouring the black liquid in two mugs. Changkyun didn't like black coffee, but he wasn't going to complain. He had a bad feeling about complaining again to the blond guy, to be honest.

A few minutes later, both of them were in the living room, sitting in the sofa. The stranger -whose name was Minhyuk- didn't seem to mind the closeness, but Changkyun did, so he prefered to look at the television. The news were talking about the elecctions and its results, but Changkyun couldn't care less. However made it to the power, it would be a bad idea. He had become disconected from the real world many years ago - He belived it was when he was 14, or maybe 15- and after that, nothing that happened outside his Little world seemed to be important. There would always be bad politicians, bad people. The system he had to live in wasn't going to change, so it seemed pointless to try to fight against stupid people that would day one of these days, as well as him. What was the point about it? It never made sense to him, nor he really cared to understand. In the end, looking for some kind of hippy-peace was an senseless thing. Actually, peace was senseless. 

Changkyun tried to stop his thoughs; He started noticing how bad the knot in his stomach he had was. In just a few seconds, a bunch of feelings seemed to bottle up, making him feel agitated. He didn't want to think, to be honest. Thinking only lead to bad stuff. Whenever his thoughs started to get bad, he couln't help thinking anything else but his father. And it made him angry.

"You think Tacher would do anything for the people?" Minhyuk's voice helped him to trail off of his own Little world. However, Changkyun's expression didn't change at first; He just turned around and looked to his companion (he didn't know how to call him. However, he wasn't a friend, not yet.) with a tired expression, looking right after to the TV screen. He didn't focused on the images nor the voice coming out of it, but tried to know what the fuck Minhyuk was talking about.

"I don't fucking know. I know nothing about UK's politics, and I don't give a fuck. " He drank the bitter coffee, in order to be in silence with a excuse. But Minhyuk didn't seem to want the conversation to stop.

"You're not from here?" He asked in a curious tone of voice.

"I'm from Boston, so, no."

"Woah, I didn't notice your accent. But that's cool! I love meeeting people from different places, you know? It always helps me remember there are more places than this city."

Changkyun kept in silence, eyes on the televison but mind somewhere else.

"Do you know Allen Ginsberg?"

Minhyuk looked at him confused again. He wasn't expection the sudden change of the topic, but maybe Changkyun -he needed to ask a few times to finally know the name of the hungover boy- didn't want to talk about it. So, after trying to remember all the important people he was told to remember during high school, he just srugh his shoulders with indifference.

"No. Why? Who is he?"

"Don't know. I guess that it's a poet. I don't know why I asked." Changkyun imitated him and proceeded to watch the news again, maintaining the silence.


End file.
